Page 62 of Kiss the Girl
Dr. Boone and her husband were sitting across from us, so I took the opportunity to lean close to Grace’s ear and whisper intimately, “Pumpkin cheesecake” again. “Also, Dr. Boone is watching.”
Grace reached up to caress my cheek, then turned her head slightly to whisper, “Do you have any idea how much I’m going to make you pay at the next game night?”
“Looking forward to that.”
I straightened and caught the pleased look on Dr. Boone’s face, like she was enjoying this exhibition of young love.
Mr. Greene got to his feet first. “Everyone under forty needs to clear the table. Except Evie, who I would like to come play a game of checkers with me. Would you like that, Evie?”
Her face brightened. “And don’t do dishes?”
“And don’t do dishes,” he confirmed.
“Heck, yes.”
That made all the adults laugh, but Evie ignored us as she took Mr. Greene’s outstretched hand and skipped beside him into the other room, the other adults filing after them.
When they were done, the rest of us carried dishes into the kitchen where Brooke assigned everyone jobs to scrape, wash, rinse, or dry while she handled packaging up the leftovers in meal portions.
I watched her, slightly awed. “I will never be grownup enough to think about doing stuff like that.”
“Me, either. This is Miss Lily’s idea. She makes up what amounts to a full plate of food with a sample of everything to send home to people in foil muffin tins. She did it last year and I thought it was brilliant.”
“Because it’s brilliant,” Grace said.
“You two go clear the crumbs off the tablecloth then start bringing out the desserts,” Brooke ordered.
“Yes, ma’am,” I said.
“Landon, you’ll handle the decorative updates?”
He flashed her a grin. “Absolutely.”
Grace and I went back into the dining room armed with butter knives that Brooke said we should use the dull side of to scrape off crumbs.
“I think the bossiness is payback,” Grace said. “Because of all the bossing I did when we were working on her renovations.”
“As a proud feminist, I need to tell you that I object to characterizing initiative as bossiness just because you’re women,” I said in a fake-pious voice. “You guys are both just strong leaders.”
Grace punched me in the stomach with about enough force to knock over a dandelion.
We got the dining room table in good shape and made several trips to bring out desserts, plates, and flatware. By the time we were done, the dishes team had finished, and Brooke and Paige had the leftovers squared away in the fridge, packaged and ready to send home with guests.
Brooke herded us all into the great room. She and Ian claimed the love seat again, but this time when Grace and I sat on the sofa, Brooke darted a meaningful look from us to Dr. Boone and back, making an exaggerated show of snuggling into Ian.
“Is she for real?” Grace grumbled.
“We better obey. Women with strong leadership skills scare me.” I put my arm around her and pulled her into my side. She came without any resistance, even drawing up her legs so that her knees rested on my left thigh. “That a girl,” I whispered.
“Shut up,” she said, and laid her head on my shoulder.
“If you’ll indulge me, my John and I had a yearly tradition of each person sharing what they’re thankful for,” Miss Lily said. “I love it even more than dessert, and I love dessert like Paula Deen loves butter.”
Everyone laughed, and she smiled. “I’ll begin. I’m thankful for seeing my grandson married. Greatest joy of my life. Greatest. Joy. Of. My. Life. Did I mention it’s the greatest—”
“We heard, Gran,” Landon said.
“Loud and clear.” That was Izzy, sounding the exact opposite of loud and clear.
